


Bring Back My Sun

by hernameinthesky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February Trope Bingo, Resurrection, reuniting exes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3277397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernameinthesky/pseuds/hernameinthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica looks small on the Nemeton, limp and wilted, so dead that Allison can’t quite believe this is going to work. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if it doesn’t.</p><p>Yes, she does.</p><p>She’ll find another way. She won’t give up. She’ll get Erica back.</p><p>OR</p><p>Allison, Lydia and Cora bring Erica back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Back My Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for the Femslash February Trope Bingo, for the square "reuniting exes". It's set in some kind of AU that I haven't fully fleshed out, so there are some similarities to cannon (Allison's darkness, kind of) but it's mostly AU.
> 
> I wrote this in about an hour and half and it isn't betad, so sorry for any mistakes.

The ground is frozen over, solid where Allison pushes her shovel into it. Behind her she feels the Nemeton bristle, tentatively start to reach out to her until it finds its likeness in her mind and retreats. Relaxes.

She’s feeling a tree relax. She doesn’t even know how to feel about that anymore.

It’s hard work, but the burn in her muscles feels good and the sweat prickling on her lower back and between her shoulder blades makes her feel damp and alive. The air is cold enough to make her throat sting and she can see her breath clouding in the air. It reminds her of the time she and Erica tried to learn how to smoke. How it felt like her lungs were squeezing smaller when she took that first breath, how she gagged and coughed, and how desperately she kissed Erica, replacing the bitterness with red apple lipstick.

Allison never tried again, but Erica practiced until she could blow perfect smoke rings. Allison hated how she tasted afterwards, so once she could do that, she stopped. Just like that. Lydia had raised her eyebrows and said Erica was lucky she wasn’t addicted, and Cora had thrown her arms out and howled, only half a joke, because she couldn’t stand how smoke clung to Erica’s clothes.

Only Allison noticed the weight gain, the irritability, the dark circles under her eyes. She was the one Erica came to when she couldn’t sleep for three days, curling up in her bed and crying and crying and crying.

But she stopped. For Allison.

The hole is getting deep now, the earth softening, giving way more easily, and Allison makes herself slow down, even as she trembles with anticipation.

She hears footsteps, then Cora and Lydia are peering down at her.

“Nearly done,” she pants.

“Careful not to knock her head off with that thing,” Cora says, crouching down, bracing her hands on her thighs.

“It wouldn’t matter if she did,” Lydia says, coming forward and resting her hand on the back of Cora’s neck. “The ritual fixes any damage, and the spell Stiles used should mean she’s not decomposed. Erica would never forgive us for that.”

“Decapitation is a little more than just ‘damage’,” Cora says.

"It doesn't matter how bad the damage is-"

“Both of you stop it,” Allison says. “I’m not going to knock her head off.”

She works in silence for a few minutes, listening as Lydia persuades Cora to let her sit on her coat.

“Come on, honey. If you let me, then tonight I’ll…”

Allison stops listening.

It takes longer than she thought it would, she’s sure they didn’t bury Erica this deep. But her memory of the time is blurred by grief and morphine, so maybe they did. Then finally, _finally,_ she hits something solid.

She looks up at Cora and Lydia, excitement and anxiety racing through her. Cora’s pawing at the earth nervously, digging her nails in and biting her lip. Lydia stares steadily at her and smiles a little.

Allison takes a deep breath and crouches down, using her hands to dig away the last of the earth.

Stiles’ spell must have worked, because Erica looks the same way she did when they laid her down. Her skin is firm and rosy, a slight tan lingering from their summer in France, and her blonde curls are fanned out around her, shiny beneath the dirt. Even her makeup is perfect, her smile painted red, her eyelids powdery and lilac.

“Come help me,” Allison says, voice quiet, fragile.

Cora lowers herself down and takes Erica’s legs. 

“On three,” she says.

Allison slides an arm around Erica’s shoulders and one around her waist, letting her head loll onto her shoulder, and they lift her up. Lydia helps shuffle her so she’s lying far enough away from the hole that they can let her go without fear of her falling back in.

“Stiles did a good job,” Lydia says, sounding faintly surprised.

“He loves her too,” Allison says, smoothing her hand over Erica’s cheek, thumb sweeping beneath her eye.

“What now?” Cora says.

“Now we get her back,” Lydia says. “Put her on the Nemeton.”

Erica looks small on the Nemeton, limp and wilted, so dead that Allison can’t quite believe this is going to work. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if it doesn’t.

Yes, she does.

She’ll find another way. She won’t give up. She’ll get Erica back.

Lydia sits cross-legged beside Erica, level with her head, and Cora hovers behind her with Allison’s own hope and worry reflected in her eyes. Allison tries to give a reassuring smile, but her lips tremble. She presses her hand to her mouth and it tastes earthy and a little like Erica’s lavender moisturiser. She wants so badly to taste that on a living Erica.

Lydia speaks Greek, which Allison doesn’t understand, but she’s gone over the words enough times to know the translation by heart. It’s so simple. Honestly, it’s a little ridiculous.

 _“Persephone, she who travels between our world and the underworld with ease, please_ _listen to my request. Bring with you this Spring_ Erica Reyes. _Bring her soul to earth and to us, let her body live and thrive. In return, a part of you may stay with her, and in_ Beacon Hills _there will never be winter again.”_

The words hang in the air for a second, then Cora coughs. “That sounded very dramatic,” she says, mouth twitching a little.

A slightly hysterical giggle bursts from Allison lips. “Trust me, it wasn’t.”

“It’ll work,” Lydia says, voice and eyes hard.

It sobers Allison and she nods. “It will.”

“When will it work?” Cora says, leaning over to peer at Erica, hand going to Lydia’s shoulder.

“It should only be a few hours. Four at most. We should wait until nightfall, then if she’s not woken up-”

“She will,” Allison says.

Lydia presses her lips together and nods. “Did you bring the cards?” she says, turning to Cora.

“Yeah,” Cora says, digging through her bag and producing a pack of playing cards. “Do we need to use them from the ritual? Like, surround her with them or something?”

Lydia rolls her eyes fondly. “I don’t know where you get these ideas. No. It’s so we have something to do, since I don’t think Allison wants to leave. We’re going to play rummy.”

Allison manages to concentrate until Lydia deals out the cards, then her eyes drift back to Erica. She misses multiple turns and isn’t sure if somebody’s won yet or if they’re still playing the first game, but for once Lydia doesn’t comment.

It gets dark slowly, so slowly, and eventually Allison gives up trying to play altogether and goes to sit next to Erica, taking her hand. She doesn’t know if it’s her imagination or not but…

“Lydia, it feels like she’s getting warmer!” Her voice is breathless, terrified and thrilled. She squeezes Erica’s hand hard enough to live a white imprint on her skin.

Lydia lays her hand clinically on Erica’s forehead. “You might be right,” she says after a moment, giving a startled, happy laugh. “Check her wound.”

Allison pulls up Erica top to reveal only smooth skin.

They all sit by Erica now, not even trying to carry a conversation. The sun slowly drops and the sky becomes a dark grey, but the air doesn’t cool. The frost from earlier has melted, and Allison thinks the earth would be soft if she tried digging now.

Then Erica takes a breath.

For a second Allison thinks she imagines it, then Erica’s chest rises again, lips parting and air whistling past her teeth. Her eyes open and she blinks confusedly up at the girls.

“Oh,” Cora breathes.

Lydia makes a high sound in the back of her throat, grabbing onto Cora’s sleeve.

Allison can’t even breathe, sure that if she makes a sound, something with break and Erica will be lying dead in front of her again.

Erica sits up slowly, smile dazed but happy. She looks down at her hand, tangled with Allison’s, then up, meeting Allison's eyes.

“Hey,” she says.

Allison chokes, on tears, on laughter, on a shout of joy maybe, and hurls herself forward, flattening Erica against the tree stump again. Cora and Lydia join her, piling on top, stretching to reach Erica, touch any bit of warm, alive skin they can.

Erica’s laughing, stroking a hand through Allison’s hair, down her back, squeezing the other where it’s still being held in Allison’s fingers.

“What happened?” she asks. “Am I hurt?”

“No, no,” Allison half-sobs. “You’re fine. You’re perfect. I love you.”

Erica grins. “I love you too, gorgeous. But seriously, why are you acting so weird?”

Allison can’t help herself, she leans down and presses her lips against Erica’s, tasting apples and mint and warmth.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, pressing her forehead against Erica’s, tears dripping from her eyes onto Erica’s cheeks. “You’re not allowed to go away again.”

Erica softens. “Hey, hey. I don’t know where I went, but I promise I won’t go again. I wouldn’t leave you for the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know absolutely nothing about Greek myths except for what I learned reading Percy Jackson and a quick sweep of Wikipedia, so I'm very sorry if I made any huge mistakes regarding Persephone. The way Erica comes back is kind of ridiculous, I'll admit, but the show is kind of ridiculous sometimes, so... oh well.


End file.
